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	<title>Toronto &#187; Isaac Boloten</title>
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		<title>Finding Meaning on the Pitcher&#8217;s Mound</title>
		<link>http://toronto.locals.baseballprospectus.com/2017/03/12/finding-meaning-on-the-pitchers-mound/</link>
		<comments>http://toronto.locals.baseballprospectus.com/2017/03/12/finding-meaning-on-the-pitchers-mound/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 12 Mar 2017 10:54:17 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Isaac Boloten]]></dc:creator>
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		<category><![CDATA[baseball]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://toronto.locals.baseballprospectus.com/?p=9436</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Editor&#8217;s note: In a bit of a departure from our normal fare, Isaac Boloten has decided to share one of his own stories about how the game of baseball can affect our lives in unexpected ways. I am as awkward as they come. No matter the endeavour, I always bring a little bit of weirdness to [&#8230;]]]></description>
				<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><em>Editor&#8217;s note: In a bit of a departure from our normal fare, Isaac Boloten has decided to share one of his own stories about how the game of baseball can affect our lives in unexpected ways.</em></p>
<p>I am as awkward as they come.</p>
<p>No matter the endeavour, I always bring a little bit of weirdness to the table. As the last man off the bench for my basketball team, my entrance into the game is often met by the watchful eyes of people wondering how hilariously I’ll screw up. Whenever I was given a chance to hit for my baseball team, every pitch I took was followed by giggles from my dugout regarding the unorthodox way I load up for my swing. If I was lucky enough to get on base, the mere thought of me attempting to slide gave everyone at the park a good chuckle.</p>
<p>If I had to characterize this persona, I’d say it resembles a cross between Hunter Pence and Joe Biagini, but with significantly less coordination and athletic ability. And I’ve embraced it.</p>
<p>Obviously if it were possible, I would rather be smooth, seamlessly outgoing, and have an idea of what to do with my hands in a photograph (seriously, if anyone knows, let me know). But I have accepted that this is who I am and I may as well make the best of the unorthodox gifts I’ve been given.</p>
<p>I’ve been able to come to terms with myself because there has always been one place where all of the weirdness is eliminated.</p>
<p>The pitcher’s mound.</p>
<p>When I’m on the mound, I live in an alternate reality where I can be taken completely seriously. I can live in a world in which I can slide into second base and take ball 3 without playful ridicule. The moments on the mound where I have had success have been some of the most exhilarating thrills of my life.</p>
<p>At some point last winter, that went away. I started to feel tightness in my shoulder during a bullpen session. I noticed my fastball was down a few ticks and I wasn’t getting quite the same pop I usually had. These things happen routinely as a pitcher. Sometimes all it takes is a day or two off and you’re right back to where you need to be. This had been the case for every other injury scare I had been through before.</p>
<p>By the time spring rolled around, the pain still hadn’t subsided, so I grew frustrated and decided it was probably time to go see a specialist. My original diagnosis was a shoulder impingement, a fairly common injury for a pitcher. This came as somewhat of a relief; the way doctors described the condition indicated that the recovery would be a breeze. “Impingement” was generally preceded by the word “only” or “just”. I “only” had to see the specialist once per week. I “just” had to do some strengthening exercises daily to build my endurance back up. These were light tasks, and I completed them diligently.</p>
<p>Diligence doesn’t come easily to a 17-year-old who specializes in procrastination, but when it came to something as important as getting back on the mound, the work seemed elementary. This is why I was so disheartened when the treatment was “complete,” and I still felt tremendous pain with every pitch. The specialist had nothing new for me. I was told to just keep going with the treatment, payments, and exercises for another month. This process was repeated until the entire season passed me by.</p>
<p>A whole year. Gone.</p>
<p>When I tried to throw again during fall ball, it was a challenge just to get the ball to the plate, let alone do it with any sort of precision. It was at this point I decided the status quo was unacceptable. I needed an MRI.</p>
<p>I received my results last week. As it turns out, I have a torn labrum and will be undergoing surgery in May.</p>
<p>The first thing I did upon hearing my diagnosis was run a Google search for “torn labrum baseball.” The results were a wide range of articles detailing how terrible the injury is, coming in hot with headlines like “the career-ender” and “the most feared injury in baseball”. These headlines are not without substance. The success rate on coming back from labral tears is extremely low in professional baseball. And that low rate deals with players who are in peak physical shape and whose incentive to come back is astronomically high. There are millions of dollars on the line, with families to support and livelihoods to tend to, not to mention professional rehab facilities.</p>
<p>For me, the stakes are not nearly as high. I have never come close to being able to make a career out of playing baseball. Scouts have never given me a second look, regardless of the numbers I was putting up. My life without baseball this past summer was certainly different, but at the end of the day, I survived. And yet I couldn’t get over my diagnosis. I have been completely broken up since, unable to take my mind off of the possibility of never pitching again. I have been forced to think about why I’ve been such a wreck.</p>
<p>Why do I care so much? Tirelessly mulling over the answer to that question has led me to a conclusion of which I was not previously aware of.</p>
<p>When I am on the mound, I am alone, 60 feet, 6 inches away from home plate with a clean slate.</p>
<p>The batter is not aware that when I speak to someone whom I have a desire to impress, the English language becomes foreign to me.</p>
<p>He doesn’t know that I shake and turn a potent shade of red whenever I make an important presentation.</p>
<p>All the batter knows is that I’m right-handed, and about 5’10’’. That’s it.</p>
<p>There’s a certain beauty in being able to make a first impression. The mound gives me the opportunity to recreate myself over and over. There, I can earn actual, unironic respect. Off the mound, this respect is harder to come by than you’d think.</p>
<p>For that reason, I will do whatever it takes to beat the odds.</p>
<p>I need to get back to the only place where my performance is the sole determinant of my character. The only place where I feel as if my presence is met with complete sincerity.</p>
<p>I will once again stand 60 feet, 6 inches away.</p>
<p><em>Lead Photo: © Kim Klement-USA TODAY Sports</em></p>
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		<title>An Open Letter to Jose Bautista: Blue Jays Legend</title>
		<link>http://toronto.locals.baseballprospectus.com/2016/11/17/an-open-letter-to-jose-bautista-blue-jays-legend/</link>
		<comments>http://toronto.locals.baseballprospectus.com/2016/11/17/an-open-letter-to-jose-bautista-blue-jays-legend/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 17 Nov 2016 11:30:57 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Isaac Boloten]]></dc:creator>
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		<category><![CDATA[Jose Bautista]]></category>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://toronto.locals.baseballprospectus.com/?p=7964</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Dear Jose, I write on behalf of an entire generation of Blue Jays fans. I’m part of a group that never saw the World Series banner fly north of the border or got the chance to see Joe touch first, let alone “‘em all”. But it’s not just World Series glory this generation has missed [&#8230;]]]></description>
				<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Dear Jose,</p>
<p>I write on behalf of an entire generation of Blue Jays fans. I’m part of a group that never saw the World Series banner fly north of the border or got the chance to see Joe touch first, let alone “‘em all”. But it’s not just World Series glory this generation has missed out on; we never saw Roger Clemens take home his two Cy Young Awards, or got the chance to be captured by the magic of Carlos Delgado’s four homer game. Many of us are even too young to have appreciated Roy Halladay’s dominance of the American League for the better part of a decade. For us, you are Blue Jays baseball.</p>
<p>The night after the Jays were eliminated from this year’s American League Championship Series, I created a <a href="https://twitter.com/IB_BlueJays/status/788893131592855552" target="_blank">Twitter thread</a>. It was a trip down memory lane, recounting some of your greatest moments in a Jays uniform. If anyone has any remaining doubt about your significance to this franchise, I encourage them to check it out. As I was creating the thread, I realized something important: The compilation required no research. I did not feel a need to crowdsource for forgotten moments, or look up intricacies on Baseball-Reference; I was tweeting memories from as far back as 2010, when I was just 11 years-old, and yet I needed no refresher whatsoever. You are the only player for whom I could do this. Most everything else from those seasons is a blur, and yet my memories of your play shine through with vivid, colourful detail.</p>
<p>In the eyes of my generation, you are more than just the Bat Flip. You made your mark in our hearts long before there were any banners to show for it. For half of a decade, you were our constant. No matter how dismal the team around you was, no matter how many Fred Lewises and Emilio Bonifacios were penciled into the lineup above you, we could always look forward to your electrifying plate appearances. Whether it was Usher’s “OMG”, or A$AP Ferg’s “New Level”, your walk-up music was a sign of good things to come. Even without the Bat Flip, you would still be the king of the “boss” home run. And hey, in case anyone forgot, according to <a href="http://www.fangraphs.com/leaders.aspx?pos=all&amp;stats=bat&amp;lg=all&amp;qual=y&amp;type=8&amp;season=2016&amp;month=0&amp;season1=2010&amp;ind=0&amp;team=0&amp;rost=0&amp;age=0&amp;filter=&amp;players=0&amp;sort=5,d">the numbers</a>, you’d still be the king of <i>the</i> home run. Continuing to look at the numbers, you’re also damn-near the king of <a href="http://www.fangraphs.com/leaders.aspx?pos=all&amp;stats=bat&amp;lg=al&amp;qual=y&amp;type=8&amp;season=2016&amp;month=0&amp;season1=2010&amp;ind=0&amp;team=0&amp;rost=0&amp;age=0&amp;filter=&amp;players=0&amp;sort=14,d" target="_blank">on-base percentage</a>, <a href="http://www.fangraphs.com/leaders.aspx?pos=all&amp;stats=bat&amp;lg=al&amp;qual=y&amp;type=8&amp;season=2016&amp;month=0&amp;season1=2010&amp;ind=0&amp;team=0&amp;rost=0&amp;age=0&amp;filter=&amp;players=0&amp;sort=15,d" target="_blank">slugging percentage</a>, and owning <a href="https://twitter.com/joeybats19/status/517179902215585792" target="_blank">Steve Simmons</a>.</p>
<p>The great thing is; we don’t <em>have </em>to take away the Bat Flip. That makes this all the better, because man, was it <em>glorious</em>. We’re more than a year removed from that moment, which means I’m approaching the point where I can speak about it rationally instead of spewing my heart out onto an unsuspecting keyboard. But I’m not sure if rational thought serves my point very well. Instead it’s probably best to return to the day after Game 5, when I could barely form a sentence, let alone a well-constructed article (shoutout to editors). This is what I managed to get down on a page:</p>
<p><em>“These were the feelings that create nostalgia. These were the feelings that create irrational thought, and I’ll fully admit to guilt of that right now. In 2030, when the “young whipper-snappers” on whatever social media platform that replaces Twitter are trying to convince me that Vladimir Guerrero Jr. is the greatest Blue Jay of all time after putting up historical numbers during a rebuilding phase, the chances are, I won’t even entertain it. Vladimir Guerrero Jr. will never make me feel the way I felt on October 14th, 2015. You tell yourself that you’re never going to give in to the narratives, until you live through a narrative that is impossible to ignore.”<br />
</em><br />
With one swing of the bat you went from my personal greatest Blue Jay of all time to the undisputed GBOAT. No one can ever tell me otherwise. Unfortunately, many people passionately disagree with me. They say you are simply a great player who was lost in an era of mediocrity. They claim that you were “no Alomar, no Fernandez, no Carter.” One swing of a bat completely dispelled that notion. That home run was the validation of the bond my generation shares with you. I’ve never been happier for a baseball player in my life.</p>
<p>Sadly, that validation appears to be wearing off. I’m seeing it happen even now, as I write this letter. “He and his attitude can go”, “I’m glad to part with him”, “He’s overstayed his welcome”. This misguided sentiment is precisely the reason why I needed to share my thoughts. The generation I speak for is still quite young; we don’t have a prominent voice in the fanbase. Those of us who write about the team are few and far between. We don’t call into the local radio stations, and our social media presence is somewhat insignificant. And so it is my fear that those who have forgotten about your legend have begun to overshadow those who cherish it dearly. So this is it. My personal, heartfelt thank you to a generation’s hero. I don’t think I could have put it any better than when there were tears streaming down my face following what may have been your last game as a Blue Jay. So here it is; my final goodbye.</p>
<blockquote class="twitter-tweet" data-width="550"><p lang="en" dir="ltr">Whether you&#39;re back or not, just know you&#39;ve made an impact. And I&#39;m not the only one. Thank you, <a href="https://twitter.com/JoeyBats19">@JoeyBats19</a>. For everything.</p>
<p>&mdash; Isaac (@IB_BlueJays) <a href="https://twitter.com/IB_BlueJays/status/788942719427178496">October 20, 2016</a></p></blockquote>
<p><script async src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js" charset="utf-8"></script></p>
<p><em>Lead Photo: Nick Turchiaro-USA TODAY Sports</em></p>
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